Back To The Future Part IV
by flicker404
Summary: Sometimes the smallest things can change history in a big way. Marty learns this lesson the hard way when a misplaced letter from 1940's Hill Valley causes the clock tower to never be completed! This story is a prequel to Back To The Future Part V. STORY
1. Prologue

**Back To The Future**

**Part IV**

**Prologue**

Saturday, October 25th, 1985

11:30 am

The morning was just about over in Hill Valley, California as the afternoon sky crept in. A traffic intersection was peaceful and quiet. Most people probably had other places they wanted to be on a Saturday anyway. The scene was near Eastwood Ravine, a deep valley named for a man who supposedly fell into it in a fiery train wreck in the late 1800's. But the ravine was not important; what was important were the train tracks that spread out over the ravine's expansive space and into the suburbs of Hill Valley's residential area.

It was at that time that two figures made their way onto the gravel that bordered that steel tracks. Among the rails lay the remains of what once was a Delorean. The locomotive it had encountered had not played fair with the unfortunate automobile.

The first of the two figures was a tall teenage girl named Jennifer. She had bright blue eyes and long, reddish-blonde hair. She turned to the young man who had accompanied her to the site of the accident.

"You're right," Jennifer said, surveying the wreckage, "There isn't much left." The young man, Marty, simply nodded as he also scanned the wreckage. He bent down to collect an old black-and-white photo that had caught his eye. The photograph contained an old man with wild white hair standing proudly next to a large clock. The man was Marty's scientist friend, "Doc" Emmett L. Brown.

"I can't believe he's gone." Marty said, recalling his memories of time traveling about Hill Valley with the Doc in the time machine that now lay in a heap of mangled wreckage before him.

But at that moment, Marty's thoughts were interrupted by the ringing sound of the railroad crossing gates. The red lights flashed on and off as the red and white gates lowered to prevent any cars from wandering too close to the tracks. Both Marty and Jennifer looked both ways as they backed away from the rails. But no train approached from either direction.

"What the heck?" Marty said out loud.

BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM! Three loud cracks sounded throughout the intersection. In a flash of light, both Marty and Jennifer were knocked flat on their feet as an old steam engine materialized in front of them.

Although the train was obviously from a different century, it bore many embellishments from all over the history books. It was long and black with the initials ELB emblazoned on the sides of the conductor's cabin. Various other components hissed, turned and sparked as the train settled down.

Marty and Jennifer were aghast as they got back to their feet. Then a door in the train's cabin folded downwards to form a set of stairs. From within the cabin appeared a wild eyed man with white hair grinning from ear to ear.

"Doc?" Marty asked over the roar of the steam engine.

"That's right, Marty!" Doc said, "Isn't it great?" he said, motioning at his train. "It runs on steam!"

"What are you doing here?" Marty asked.

"You have to meet the family!" Doc said as a pretty lady in an antique dress came forward. "I believe you already know Clara."

Clara waved to them, "Hello, Marty."

Marty nodded in respect, "Ma'am."

"These are our boys," Doc said, ushering to young boys to the front, "Jules and Verne." The boys waved to Marty and Jennifer.

"I thought you were stuck there!" Marty asked, curious about the new time machine.

"You can't keep a good scientist down!" Doc grinned, "I had to come back for Einstein and, well, I never got to say goodbye." As he spoke, Clara handed her husband a parcel wrapped in brown paper. Doc handed the package to Marty. "Here's a little souvenir."

Marty accepted the gift and tore into the brown paper. Underneath was a black-and-white photograph of himself and the Doc standing next to the Hill Valley clock in 1885. The words in the frame read "To Marty from your friend in time, Doc."

"Thanks, Doc," Marty said, shaking the scientist's hand, "It's perfect!" Jennifer eyes brightened as she dug into her pocket and removed a sheet of printer paper.

"Doctor Brown?" she asked curiously as she handed the paper to him, "I got this note from the future and, well, now it's erased. What does that mean?" The scientist knelt down and looked both Marty and Jennifer in the face.

"It means," Doc said, "That your futures haven't been written yet; no one's has. Your future is whatever you make it, so make it a good one. Both of you."

Marty glanced at Jennifer and said, "We will, Doc." Just then the stairs folded back up into the cabin. Doc cracked open a window and leaned out.

"Where are going now?" Marty said, "The future?"

"Been there!" the Doc said as the train lifted off the rails. The large steel wheels folded up under the boiler as large wings fanned out on either side. Then the black steam engine banked up into the afternoon sky. With the same three loud bangs that had announced its arrival, the train disappeared, leaving a trail of fire in the sky.

Marty and Jennifer watched the train leave, knowing the Doc would probably find some other adventure in the past that he loved so much. Marty hoped that wherever Doc went, he would be safe with his new family.

Marty and Jennifer turned to leave in Marty's truck. Just as they reached the vehicle, a black sedan pulled up in front of them. The car looked ominous. The black door solely opened and a tall man in a trench cost stepped out. His hair was grey and his expression was grim.

"Are you Martin McFly?" his gruff voice said.

"Uh, yeah." Marty said. This was a little too familiar. Actually way too familiar.

"I have something for you." The man said, removing a manila envelope from his coat. He handed the package to Marty. "We've had this in our department for the last fifty years and it is addressed to a young man answering to the name of Marty at this exact time and this exact place." The man turned to leave.

"Wait!" Marty said. The man stopped. "Who sent this? Are you guy's Western Union?"

"Nope, Government. It's a confidential message. Apparently you are to be the only reader of this letter." The man turned again and the black car drove off down the street. Marty opened the letter and read with wide eyes.

"Marty? What is it?" Jennifer asked, concerned by the look on Marty's face.

"Great Scott!" Marty exclaimed as he fainted to the ground.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Saturday, October 25th, 1985

10:59 PM

Marty woke up from his dream in a cold sweat. He was a bit disorientated by the dream. It was like it had just happened yesterday that he had seen Doc and Clara race off into the sky in Doc's flying train.

Marty lazily fell out of bed and stared at his alarm clock. It read "11:00 pm, October 25th". It was Saturday! It _hadn't_ happened just yesterday, it had happened today!

He leapt up and quickly donned his orange down vest. He needed nothing else; he'd slept in his clothes again. He bounded into the kitchen only to find it empty. No one was awake. Not at this hour. Marty noticed a note on the kitchen table. It was from his mother, Lorraine: "Dear Marty, you didn't wake up yet after you fainted this morning, so we let you sleep in. There's some food in the fridge. -Mom."

Marty scratched his head. He had fainted? When did that happen? Just then the phone rang.

"Hello?" Marty said.

"Marty? You're awake! Are you okay? I was so worried."

"Jennifer? How's it going?"

"Great," Jennifer answered, "But you didn't answer my question."

"Huh, oh I'm fine. What happened?"

"You fainted at the railroad crossing and I brought you home in your truck. Your mother was so worried, Marty. She put you to bed and started asking me why you were wearing those heavy cowboy clothes in that heat."

"Well I'm fine now."

"By the way, where did you get that outfit? It smells like it's been around for about eighty years."

"A hundred," Marty corrected then instantly reprimanded himself with a smack to the forehead.

"What?"

"Uh, never mind."

"So what was in that letter?"

"What?"

"The letter that man gave you, Marty." Jennifer said, "What did it say?"

"The letter…"

"Don't tell me you forgot."

"No, I…it's right here." Marty said after feeling around in his pockets for the letter. He folded it open. So it _was_ true! "Yeah, it's from a, uh, a friend."

"From Doc Brown?" Jennifer asked.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I was there when he flew off in that train of his."

"Oh, right. I'll get back to you, okay?"

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye." Marty hung up the phone as he straightened the letter out so he could read it. It was definitely Doc's handwriting.

_Dear Marty,_

_You should be receiving this letter just after you've seen my new time machine disappear into the sky on October 25th, 1985 at 11:30 am._

_I am writing you this letter from the date December 30th, 1941. Clara and I have just arrived and have settled in Hill Valley. Don't worry, we are alive and well with one exception; after coming from 1985 and into 1941, we were caught in a lightning storm. Fortunately, the time circuits are intact and functioning thanks to a new power relay system I've built. Unfortunately, the flying circuits have been disabled and the train is stuck in Eastwood Ravine without a way to get it onto the tracks. I usually keep spare parts with me, but I have forgotten them at my lab when I picked up Einstein._

_Before you ask how you will get the parts to me, Please be aware that I know about the Delorean's fate. Go directly to my lab to retrieve the parts I need. Don't worry, they're clearly marked._

_Do not let anyone interfere with your mission. If all goes well, the train will be back to normal and we can continue traveling. This year is a pivotal one in history, especially for Hill Valley and I must leave until certain critical events have come to pass first._

_Your friend in time,_

_Doc Emmett L. Brown_

_P.S. When the new security system asks you for a password, you'll need to enter the code 10121955 (the date of the Hill Valley lightning storm)._

Mart finished the latter and almost fainted again. The Doc was stuck again? How could he let this happen? All that talk about the space-time continuum? Oh well, the point was that Doc was in trouble again and Marty had no choice but help him out.

Marty bounded out the door, grabbing the keys to his truck. Doc meant business. He glanced at the clock. 11:04 pm on a Saturday. If he timed it right, his parents would never know he was gone.

In a blaze, Marty's black Toyota blasted down the street and made its way to 1640 Riverside Drive. He looked every direction to make sure he wasn't being followed. Not that he would expect someone to, but Doc's cryptic letter was enough to keep Marty on edge. Several times he thought he imagined a car following him, only to have his fears allayed by seeing it turn another direction.

Just past the Burger King was an old garage that once connected to a house. The house had been destroyed sometime ago, but the garage survived and was where Doc spent countless hours inventing and creating countless contraptions that only sometimes worked. Even though Marty knew that the garage was really not Doc's anymore, it still felt like it was yesterday that Doc called the old building his home.

Marty stepped out of the truck and walked towards the garage door. He saw the keypad and entered in the code. With swoosh, the door lifted up into the garage with a thud. Marty squinted as he peered inside.

_Jeez_, he thought, _besides that the crazy keypad, it doesn't look like Doc's ever come back_. Marty glanced around and noticed Einstein's bowl was still overflowing with that glop that Doc called dog food. Doc's bizarre collection of clocks was still there as well, faithfully ticking the hours away in his absence.

"Looks like you didn't pay your electricity bill again, Doc." Marty said out loud as he turned on a flashlight. It seemed Doc had prepared for a war. Everything he owned was covered in tarps and sheets for protection. The beam swept through the old garage like a searchlight until it rested on a metal crate marked "Spare Flight Circuits." Doc was right; they were clearly marked.

"Okay, Doc." Marty said to himself again, "I got your circuits; now what?" Marty looked around for the answer, expecting it to come out of thin air. For a plan, Doc sure didn't…

SCREEECH! The piercing sound of tires on pavement reached Marty's ears. He ran back outside. It was red Ford 4x4 that had stopped in front of Doc's lab. Marty recognized the truck and the punks in it right away. It was Harold Needles.

"Hey, McFly!" Needles hollered from the red truck, "I didn't like the way you showed us up at that light!"

"Yeah? Well deal with it, Needles. I got better things to do."

"Like snooping around Lunatic Brown's old shed? You ain't too bright either, McFly. We spotted that Toyota of yours a mile away."

"I'm not snooping around Needles. Get lost."

"What's the matter? Alright, boys, let's see what Lunatic Brown's got that McFly's so interested in."

Uh oh. That wasn't good. Marty saw the angry punks jump out of the red truck and bolt towards him. He wouldn't be able to fight them off while carrying the flight circuits. The teenager turned and ran around the back of the garage while Needles and his gang hurled their threats.

Marty was now behind the garage, which had now overgrown with weeds to the point of being a jungle. He tripped several times on the thick undergrowth. Then he noticed the lattice on the back. Of course! Doc had an experiment with hanging plants a while back; maybe he kept them up on the roof. That meant he had a hiding spot up there.

Marty swung the crate up at the roof. It landed with a thud. Needles was breathing down his neck now. Any moment he'd be on top of him. Marty jumped up at the lattice and grabbed hold. He strained his arms and legs until he could feel the roof's shingles beneath him.

"McFly!" Needles roared. Marty looked down; the gang was at the backyard, looking every which way for any sign of their prey. Needles hollered his threats as the guys looked around a closed window. Marty crawled behind the chimney. He could just barely see the gang starting to give up hope.

Scrape. Marty's head bumped a loose brick and it started to move. He reached up and grabbed it before it fell.

"Hey, Needles!" said one of the gang, "Did you hear something?"

"McFly!" Needles hollered again, "Where are you, you little chicken!" Marty didn't move an inch. He didn't need to. The dust from the chimney brick was tickling his nose. It was only a matter of time before.

AHHH-. Marty pinched his nose hard. He couldn't let this one escape.

"I think it's just a cat." Another guys said, "Let's go home." Home. Yes, that was a good idea. Marty could hear the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves as the group turned to leave. When they were gone he could-

AHHHHHHCHOOOOO! That little tingle had turned itself into a huge sneeze. Marty covered his face, but the damage was done.

"He's on the roof! Get him!" No one needed to tell Marty to run for it. He was already running for the other end of the garage roof. If he could jump onto his pick-up, he could make a run for it. Just a few more strides and he would make it. Just a few more-

CRASH! Apparently the beams holding up the old roof were not as strong as they once were. Marty tumbled into the garage's attic in a swirl of dust and splinters. He landed with a dull thud. His head hit something hard.

Marty's eyes squinted to see through the light. The moonlight poured in through the newly installed sunlight, courtesy of Marty McFly. The dazed teenager looked around for the object that had struck him on the head. He shone his flashlight on it. It was metal. Steel to be more accurate. Marty was willing to bet it wasn't just any steel.

He ran his hand over it. Brushed. Yep, it was stainless steel. Doc had put something made of stainless steel in his garage attic.

Marty winced at the bump on his head from falling in through the roof. He could here the footsteps of Needles and his cronies catching up. They would be here soon.

Then Marty jolted up a grabbed for his flashlight. He aimed it down low. Tires. Tires were up here. Tires that were connected to wheels. Wheels that were connected to a chassis. A chassis that was connected to body. A body that was covered in stainless steel.

The Delorean! Doc had built another! But how did he get it up here. That didn't matter now. Marty jumped up and slid over the silver hood and grabbed at the door handle. The gull-wing door swung up effortlessly. He climbed in and found the keys still in the ignition. After a few faulty starts, the engine roared to life. In front of him, the time circuits warmed up. The led destination display read:

Destination: October 25th, 1985, 1:00 am

Current Time: October 25th, 1985, 11:00pm

Last Time Traveled: September 2nd, 1955, 2:34 pm

Marty ran his fingers over the keypad and punched in a new heading:

Destination: December 31st, 1941, 12:00 pm

It was the next day to the one Doc specified in his letter but, he couldn't risk showing up before Doc wrote the letter or Marty would never get it. He didn't want to confuse the matter and things were already way over his head right now anyways.

"Hey do you guys hear a car?" Crap! One of Needles' pals heard the Delorean idling. Marty could here the thud of their footsteps quickening to the spot. He tossed the crate in the passenger seat and shifted the clutch into first. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he was going to be ready.

"I think he's down here!"

"McFly! Get out here!"

"Let's go after him."

"Are you crazy? I'm not going down there."

"Fine, you idiots!" Needles shouted, "I'll go myself!" The hulking figure of Harold Needles dropped through the hole in the roof into an attic illuminated by the bright glow from the Delorean's headlights. Needles' scowl turned to one of absolute horror. Marty McFly had outsmarted him.

Needles dove into the rafters as Marty jammed the throttle. The Delorean jolted forward towards the front of the garage. Marty braced for impact.

SMASH! The car burst through the old wooden slats and soared over Marty's Toyota. The Delorean hit the ground with a jolt that Marty could feel up his spine. He spun the wheel left and came to a stop.

"He's in that car!" Needles yelled from the shattered garage roof, "Get him." Within seconds, the cronies were bounding towards the red Ford. They wore not so happy faces and Marty decided that it would be a good time to leave. The Delorean's tires spun wildly as the time machine laid down a patch of rubber on Riverside Drive. Marty drove to the end of the street and realized he wouldn't have enough road to clear 88 mph. The teenager quickly put the Delorean into a 180 and faced the other direction.

It was a clear shot, except for one thing.

"Oh man," Marty groaned. Needles' truck was starting up and coming straight at him. Needles was in the mood for a game of chicken.

Marty tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The game was on.

The Delorean jolted forward and five seconds later, Marty was traveling down Riverside Drive at sixty mph. The red truck roared to life and made its way in the opposite direction.

"Come on," Marty said, "Let's see it, Needles."

Seventy mph.

"Alright, McFly," Needles jeered as the Delorean came closer, "Let's see if you can redeem yourself.

Eighty mph.

"Come on, come on!" Marty yelled at the speedometer.

Eighty-five mph.

The sight Needles and his gang saw startled them. Sparks swirled around the Delorean as the flux capacitor bands lit up. The familiar lights emitted from beneath the chassis as the whole car lit up like billboard.

Eighty-eight.

"What the heck is that?" Needles screamed as he slammed on the brakes and yanked the wheel to the left to avoid the inevitable collision.

But a collision never came. In three cracks of lightning, the Delorean vanished in time, leaving only twin trails of fire in its wake.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sunday, December 31st, 1941

12:00 PM

HOOOONNNNNKKKK! Marty swerved to the right as a truck blared its horn. But thankfully, it wasn't Needles' red Ford. The Delorean dodged to the right while the truck driver tried to keep himself and his vehicle under control. The time machine bounced and jolted over what was now a dirt road. Marty cranked the wheel left and guided the Delorean into a field of tall grass and came to a stop under a thick oak tree.

As he opened the door, Marty could see the damage he caused; the truck was a US Postal Service truck. Actually, it was just a Ford Delivery truck with a red white and blue logo that signified its allegiance. The truck had also bounced and jolted along the dirt road and several cartons of mail were strewn across the road. At the moment, the very angry driver was quickly gathering the letters and postcards and trying to place them back in the correct order.

Marty ran over to help, aware that he was the cause for the mix-up.

"I'm sorry, pal. I didn't see you."

"Sorry? Sorry doesn't fix this mess. Where in tarnation were you headed in such a hurry? I ain't never seen such a gussied-up contraption as the one yer driving in all my life as post master for the Hill Valley Post Office."

"It's a long story," Marty stammered, "Here, let me help you."

"Well, alright." The driver calmed down, "I've never turned down free help." He chuckled. Marty felt a bit awkward. It seemed he was already making an astounding impression on 1940's Hill Valley. He had a knack for that.

Within a few minutes, the post master gathered his wits and the mail truck was off once more down the dirt road that would someday be called Riverside Drive. Marty glanced down at the ground. Several letters were still strewn about, but the bewildered post master had obviously deemed them unworthy of being drawn out from the mud and dirt.

"Hey!" Marty shouted, hoping to catch the mail truck's attention again. But the post master didn't seem to notice. Or didn't care. Regardless of his intentions, the truck was not stopping for a few letters.

_Better find Doc_. Marty got back into the Delorean and removed the keys from the ignition. He then made sure the doors were locked; giving a firm tug at the handles to be sure it was secure. He looked around; nothing but tall grass and a large oak tree.

Confident that the Delorean was well-hidden, Marty walked down the dirt road and towards the town of Hill Valley, California.

- - - - -

To describe 1940's Hill Valley in a word would be… different. Of course, Hill Valley had evolved as a town since its earliest stages in 1885 to the futuristic style Marty had seen in 2015. He realized he shouldn't be surprised at all; he had seen more eras of his home town than other human being alive. Except for the Doc, of course.

Upon reaching the town square, Marty couldn't help but be bewildered that the Clock Tower was still surrounded by scaffolding and ropes. Countless wooden beams and other hardware lay about, waiting to be added to the structure.

They still haven't finished this thing? Marty wondered aloud. What's the hold up? He didn't have to wonder for long. A group of pedestrians were marching down the sidewalk carrying large posters, most of which featured good old Uncle Sam pointing his finger and stating "I want you to join the U.S. Army". As they got nearer, the crowd could be heard chanting their dislike of President Roosevelt's decision to enter the war. Or something.

"How about you, newcomer?" a man in a suit pointed at Marty, "You don't look like you're from Hill Valley. What's your take on this war?"

"War?" Marty croaked. He secretly wished he had done better in Mrs. Field's high school history class.

"Yes, man. The war."

"Um, exactly what war is that?" Marty could feel the protestor's eyes boring into him as his ears turned red.

"The second World War, man! What do think of the President's decision to enter war?"

"I think it's, uh, good. I mean, we should fight for our freedoms. You know; truth, justice, and the American way."

"That's what I keep saying, Don." Another man said, "He may be young, but that boy's got some sense in his head." This guy seemed familiar. Almost too familiar. Like a face from a photograph.

"But what about our clock tower, Ronald?" the first man said, "If we don't send enough letters to the government, they'll use it make tanks or machine guns or the like!"

"The government cuts funding sometimes, Don. Don't bore this newcomer with your ideas about where the clock tower's money should go." The crowd dispersed slightly as Don and few others continued their march about. It took Marty about three seconds to figure it out.

"You're Ronald McFly!" Marty exclaimed, a little too loud. This man was his grandfather! The man turned and faced Marty.

"That's right," Ronald said, "And that's Lt. McFly to you, son."

"Oh, I'm sorry,"

"You seem a bit familiar to me," Lt. McFly said, looking Marty over. He was obviously a little taken by the new comer's strange choice of dress. A life preserver and some strange white shoes.

"Me. Oh, um, probably not." Marty stammered. He was having trouble coming up with words. He was actually talking to his grandfather. Marty had never known his grandfather Ronald as a child. He had died long before he was born on the beaches of Normandy during World War II. Marty remembered the black and white photo from the one above the fireplace. Not even Marty's father, George had known Ronald for very long. George was six when his mother got the letter from the government.

It was strange; like talking to a ghost.

"So, um. Are you in the army?"

"Can't you see the uniform, son?" Marty winced, knowing it would be more accurately "grandson".

"Oh,"

"I'll be headed for active duty in two weeks," Ronald said, "I'll see you around in the future." With a wave, the man walked off. Marty stared at the soldier as he left, getting the feeling it was the only time he would ever see his grandfather again.

The future. Oh yeah, he was in the past again; he'd almost forgot. Time to find Doc.

- - - - -

Marty made his way to Eastwood Ravine. Funny; he remembered it as Clayton Ravine, but he remembered that Doc had saved Clara from plummeting to her death in 1885, thus renaming it. For some reason, the folks of Hill Valley liked to name stuff after people who died horrible deaths. Or at least they thought.

The trip down was a bit steep. The few sticks and shrubs that stuck out from the cliff's rocky walls provided only less than ideal surfaces for transit. After almost losing his balance a few times, Marty finally approached the bottom. He could see from where he was standing that a camp fire had been lit off in the distance.

Tripping and wading through the thick underbrush, Marty slowly made it closer and closer to the flickering light.

"Who's there!" Marty's heart jumped out of his chest. That voice scarred him half to death.

"Augh!" was all the teenager managed to get out as he raised his hands in surrender.

"Marty?" The voice called out again. This time Marty recognized it!

"Doc?"

"Marty, how many times do I have to tell you? Dress for the times!" the tall figure of Doctor Emmett Brown came into full view from behind a bush. Doc was wearing period-correct business suit and his wild, white hair glowed orange from the camp fire's light. "Don't tell me you walked around Hill Valley 1941 in that outfit."

"Good to know you're still on top of things, Doc. What's with scaring me half to death?"

"I couldn't risk letting anyone else see the time machine!" Doc said, still excited. Doc was always excited; like a kid. No off switch, just Doc's eccentric personality. "Speaking of which, where's the Delorean?"

"Hey, don't worry; it's safe. I hid it on Riverside Drive and there's nothing out there but trees and tall grass. And besides…" Marty dangled a key ring in Doc's face, "…You can't go anywhere without the keys."

Doc smiled in approval of Marty's quick thinking. "Good job, Marty. I knew I could count on you. You brought the flight circuits?"

"Yeah, they're…oh crap! I left them back at the Delorean!"

"Well, no harm done, we'll go right know and retrieve them. When we get the to the Delorean, we'll take it back here and start fixing the train."

"Hold up Doc," Marty said as his friend turned to leave, "What about Clara? Aren't you going to tell her you're going to be gone?"

"Marty…" Doc said in that voice that sounded like that of a teacher, "We have a time machine; she'll never know we were gone."

Marty resigned his argument.

"You're the Doc, Doc."

- - - - -

Doc and Marty waded through the tall grass and crept up to the still Delorean. It was still silent and apparently hadn't been touched. Doc opened up the car's door and peered inside.

_I can't see a thing_, He thought. Putting the key in the ignition and turning it lit up the interior like a Christmas tree.

"So I'm guessing you made it here without a scratch?" Doc asked Marty, who was keeping watch for any nosy passer-bys. "The Delorean seems okay."

"Yeah, Doc," Marty said, "Listen; about where you put the Delorean. I, uh…"

"You liked the attic? It was Clara's idea. Actually, she suggested hiding it beneath the floor boards like in that Poe novel, but I figured you wouldn't know how to get it out. That's why I built the elevator to hoist it up in the attic."

"What?" Marty stammered, "There's an elevator?"

"Well yes, there's an elevator." Doc said, giving Marty a confused look, "How else did you get it out of the attic?" Marty paused, wondering how he should answer Doc's question.

"Uh, well, we'll worry about that later, Doc." Marty said. He decided he would tell Doc about the roof when they got back. Better yet, he could fix it and go back to the future so Doc would never know. Naw, he should just tell him.

"Hey Doc?"

"Yes, Marty…Oh, wait. Uh oh."

"What's wrong, Doc?" Marty asked, fearing the worst. He didn't want to be stuck back in time again.

"These are flight circuits for the Delorean, not the train!"

"Sorry, Doc. It was kinda dark and they were the only ones I saw…"

"No harm done," Doc reassured him, "We'll just take a trip back, or should I say forward, to 1985 and retrieve them."

"Okay, Doc. You're driving." The Delorean backed out from the tall grass and onto the dark, moon-lit dirt road. Doc reached over and punched in their destination.

Destination: October 25th, 1985, 11:20 PM

Current Time: December 31st, 1941, 12:00 AM

Last Time Traveled: December 31st, 1941, 12:00 PM

Doc paused and fished around his coat pockets for something. At last he smiled and held up a pair of futuristic glasses. Sliding the glasses on, he looked over at Marty.

"Hold on…"

"Doc, you didn't!"

"Yes, Marty. I did."

The Delorean shook and rattled as it hovered a few inches off the ground. The four wheels folded out and tucked under the chassis in a 90 degree angle so they faced downward. Marty felt that familiar uneasy feeling he always got on airplanes as the Delorean jolted up and forward into the night sky of Hill Valley 1941.

BANG! BANG! BANG! They were back to the future.

Again.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Saturday, October 25th, 1985

11:20 PM

All was well along the quiet suburbs of Riverside Drive. The Burger King had just closed down for the night and after the lights faded, the street fell as silent as it was dark. The moon seemed to be the only light shining besides the harsh glare of street lamps the adorned either side of the road. It was quiet, peaceful.

For about three seconds.

BANG! BANG! BANG! If anyone was asleep, they were awake now. And if anyone was awake, they probably wondered what that obscene noise was. But the folks of Riverside Drive had learned that living next door to wacky, wild-eyed neighbor like Doc Brown meant enduring his scientific experiments to their fullest extent.

But for Marty and Doc, that noise was a relief that once again, a flawless jump through the space-time continuum had been completed. Were it not for the dark street, some poor soul would've have called the police or fainted at the sight of a Delorean appearing out of nowhere in the night sky and landing on the pavement outside Doc's lab.

But it was clear that after the Delorean's wheels returned to their normal position and flux capacitor cooled down that something was amiss. It wasn't the time; Marty looked at the display and saw the correct date. It was only moments after he dusted Needles' truck. Only now, Needles' truck was no where to be found.

_Yeah_, Marty thought, _If I saw a Delorean disappear I'd probably high-tail it out of here too. I should probably lock up my truck._

Only Marty's truck was not in the driveway. In fact, like the red Ford, it was no where to be found.

"Doc?" Marty asked, "Where's my truck?" Actually, it was a dumb question. How should Doc know where the heck Marty's truck was?

The teenager looked up at the lab as the Delorean's gull-wing doors opened. He half expected Doc to go into a fit of rage when he saw what had happened to the lab's roof, but the Doc never made a sound. He simply muttered to himself about how he could fashion a power relay system for the train's hover circuits so they couldn't be fried so easily. But the reason Doc didn't blow up was simple.

Nothing was wrong with the lab's roof. Not a scratch or a missing shingle or nothing. It was like Marty's run-in with Needles had never happened.

Had never happened.

Something had changed. Big time. Marty didn't know what, but that last time he tried to make a better future, his greed got the best of him and turned Hill Valley into an alternate universe. More like _Hell_ Valley. Marty shuddered at the memory.

"Doc," Marty said, "I got this funny feeling…"

"Me too," Doc said, "The flight circuits aren't where I left them. Clara's right, I am getting scatter-brained." Doc waded around a few more piles of odds and ends before he grasped a ream of papers that rested just outside the door.

"Well, at least the newspaper is where is should be." The scientist said as he set it down on an already cluttered work bench and continued his search. Marty grabbed the paper and stepped out into the light so he could read.

The first thing that caught his eye was headline. It was in big block letters that a blind man could read. From about three-hundred yards away. The words jumped out at Marty and slapped him in the face.

_LOCAL SCIENTIST FOUND DEAD_

_Early this morning, Police discovered the remains of local resident Emmett L. Brown, shot to death, in the parking lot of the Lone Pine Mall complex. The body was discovered at 6:00 am when a security guard noticed Brown's van parked next to the burning remains of minivan._

_Along with an automatic rifle police believe to be the weapon that killed brown, the missing vials of plutonium from the nuclear plant in Arizona were also uncovered, but it is unknown what Brown's intentions of using the plutonium were._

Marty never screamed so hard in his life.

"DOOOOOOOOOOOCCCCCCCCC!" Whoever hadn't been awakened by the Delorean was certainly awake after that scream. Doc bolted straight up from underneath a cabinet and bounded over the piles of junk to Marty's location.

"What is it, Marty?" Doc said, noticing the chalk-white look on the teenager's face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Doc, Look at this!" Marty plastered the paper in Doc's face. The old scientist gasped almost as loud as Marty had screamed.

"Holy Socrates! Where did you get this?"

"It's the paper, Doc! Look at the date! It's today's paper!"

"Great Scott! Why am I dead! Again!" Doc had to find out. He tore through the paper for any sign of it being a hoax. Instead, all he found was another disturbing story on page eight. Now it was Doc's turn to give Marty bad news.

_HILL VALLEY TEEN MISSING_

_Police have started a city-wide manhunt today to ascertain the fate of Hill Valley High student Martin Seamus McFly. Martin was reported missing by his parents at 7 o'clock this morning. So far, there have been no leads as to the young man's whereabouts._

Marty was solemn and shared a grim expression with Doc.

"Doc, this is heavy!" the teenager was stunned with disbelief.

"It doesn't make sense!" Doc said over and over as he paced back and forth frantically on the driveway. Doc always paced rapidly when he was nervous or disturbed. Right now, the situation warranted pacing.

"What got reversed? Nothing changed in 1941! Marty?"

"It wasn't me, Doc. I didn't do anything! I swear!"

"As much as I want to believe you, you must tell in perfect detail the events of your trip." Marty recounted the facts carefully.

"I got to 1941 and I hid the Delorean, then I went and found you! There's no chance I did anything!"

An idea popped in Doc's mind like a light bulb going off. His eyes suddenly got wide as the idea turned into a thought.

"The Court House!"

"What?"

"If we want to find out what happened in 1941, we'll go to the Court House and look at the archives!"

"Great idea, Doc, but the Court House is closed."

"Marty…" Doc said, giving him the look again, "I'm a man of many means."

- - - - -

It was now raining in Hill Valley 1985. The weather only complimented what was turning out to be another nightmare for Doc and Marty. The Delorean's wipers were cranked at full blast as the car trudged on through the downpour. It took a good fifteen minutes to get there, so Marty thought it was a good time to talk.

"Doc," Marty said, "I just gotta know one thing; what the heck happened to the other Delorean."

"The other Delorean? Oh no, no. This is the very same Delorean you remember. Piece for piece."

"How?"

"Remember this?" Doc said, holding up a black electronic object, "It's the sleep inducing Alpha Rhythm generator. After I built the train, I went back to the moment you came back from 1885 and switched cars. I knocked you out with this."

"Really?"

"Yes. I'm sorry though; I gave you a little too much and you barely got out of the way of that train."

"Why Doc? What about that stuff you said about changing history?"

"I couldn't leave working components of the time circuits or the flux capacitor out in the open for anyone to see. If that knowledge got into the wrong hands, the results could be…"

"…Disastrous." Marty said, completing Doc's sentence. He decided not to press the issue further. What ever Doc's reasons for preserving the Delorean, he must have thought it was important or he wouldn't have done it.

Marty glanced up at a street sign through the rain-streaked passenger window. 34th Street. They were just in front of…

Well, they should have been right in front of the Hill Valley Court House. Except that, through the downpour, neither Marty nor Doc could catch a glimpse of the building.

Another simple explanation; there was no Court House.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Sunday, October 26th, 1985

1:43 AM

"It's not here, Doc!" Marty shouted over the incessant pounding of the rain. The two were standing in the very place where the Hill Valley Clock Tower should have been, but wasn't.

The fountain was there, along with the graffiti-covered park benches and gravel walkways. But a huge gap filled the stormy sky. All that remained was the concrete foundations, broken down and cracked due to years of neglect. Several rusted playground toys and swing sets glinted in the moonlight on the very place where there should have been steps leading up to the grand entrance as the wind slowly spun a vacant merry-go-round.

"I can't believe it either, Marty!" Doc shouted back. His flashlight had just caught a sign in its glare. It read "Hill Valley Memorial Park".

"Where'd the Court House go? It was just here yesterday!"

"Yesterday to you and I, perhaps." Doc corrected, "But as far as I can see, she's been gone for a long, long time."

Now Marty's flashlight caught another shiny object in its glare that wasn't supposed to be there. It was like a pedestal or something. As Marty got closer, he could see that it was a plaque. It was dedicated to the site and read:

_The Hill Valley Memorial Park was erected in 1948 to commemorate the fallen heroes of the Second World War. This site was formerly the location of the Hill Valley Court House, erected in 1885, but was never completed._

"Why wouldn't they complete it?" Marty asked after Doc read the plaque?

"I don't know!" Doc said as he spun around and marched back to the Delorean, "But I intend to find out!"

"Where are we going?" Marty called through the rain as ran to catch up to the scientist.

"There's at least got to be a library around here somewhere if they haven't torn that down too!"

Marty smiled. Doc was always thinking on the bright side.

They were just nearing the Delorean when a police officer approached them. Marty recognized him right away. It was officer Warrick. The guy was a real jerk. He had given Marty hid first ticket for going only five over in a thirty-five zone. Marty knew he had singled him out because all the other cars were flying by him like he was standing still. This time, though, it didn't look like Officer Warrick was going to give Marty any trouble.

He was wrong.

"Hey!" The officer shouted, "You're the McFly kid! We've been looking all over Hill Valley for your sorry butt! You really got the nerve to try to disappear like that!"

Marty smacked himself in the head. Of Course! Everyone thought he was missing. But why? That didn't make any sense.

"Come on, Marty!" Doc shouted, "We don't have time, officer."

"Says who?" Warrick asked, readying his gun.

"Doctor Emmett L. Brown!" Doc said indignantly.

"Nice try, pops, but old man Brown was shot dead this morning."

"Come on, Marty! Get in the Delorean now!" Marty ran for the Delorean as Doc pushed him inside. Doc jumped at the officer and punched him in the face.

POW! Officer Warrick fell down like a sac of potatoes.

"We'd better get outta here, Doc!" As Doc shifted the Delorean into first, Officer Warrick came around. He shook his eyes as he watched the Delorean peel out of sight. He ran across the park and into his patrol car. The radio was the first thing he grabbed.

"All units! All units! I have a location on the McFly kid. He's being kidnapped by an old coot claiming to be Doc Brown! He's fleeing west on 35th street!" Officer Warrick's patrol car's light rack flickered to life.

"Unit twelve, what is the make and color of the suspect vehicle?"

"It's a grey Delorean; modified!"

"That is confirmed; sending units en route."

The chase of Doc and Marty's life was on!

- - - - -

The Delorean bounded along 35th Street as Marty unfolded a map that was in the glove compartment.

"Doc, we gotta turn left up here at this light and then go straight until we hit the library!"

"Okay," Doc said, "Hang on!"

Up ahead, through the rain, Marty and Doc saw two patrol cars converge on an intersection. The officers parked and got out of their vehicles, guns drawn on the Delorean.

"Doesn't look like they're gonna just lets us go willingly." Doc flipped a few switches and the Delorean started to lift up. Marty heard the cracking noises of guns being fired.

"They're shooting at us, Doc!" Doc didn't respond, but kept the Delorean in a tight upward spin as he turned of the headlights. Marty could see the officers below scrambling to see where the flying car had gone.

_Hmph!_ Doc thought indignantly, _They act like they've never seen a flying Delorean before_. Then chuckled as he thought; _They've probably just wet themselves!_

"Doc! The library's over there!" Marty pointed.

"They'll never suspect we went to the library, much less landed on the roof!"

Doc cranked the wheel again and the Delorean swung in a wide arc for the roof of the library. He set down upon the roof with a dull thud and secretly hoped no one was still inside. But it was Saturday, and the Hill Valley State Library was always closed on Saturdays.

"Let's go, Marty!" Doc said, "I don't want to spend another second in this alternate timeline!"

"You don't have to tell me twice." Marty said. The two time travelers walked over to a skylight and Doc and Marty gingerly lifted the cover as quietly as they could while the drone of police sirens echoed in the background.

Once the lid was off, Marty was the first one to jump through the opening. He landed on the library's tacky red carpet and immediately made his way to the directory. It hadn't changed since Marty and the Doc of 1955 came here to find out information about the real Doc's whereabouts in 1885.

Shortly, Doc also came bounding down the skylight and walked over to where Marty was standing. He disappeared and then shortly reappeared with a large book in his hand.

"I think this is what you're looking for." Doc said proudly as he set the book down and flipped through the pages. The old leather cover read "History of Hill Valley: 1850-1950".

"Hey there it is!" Marty said, "I remember that!" The picture he was pointing to framed the Hill Valley Court House as it was when construction started in 1885. If Marty wasn't mistaken, it was taken the day after Buford "Mad Dog" Tannen tried to hang Marty aka Clint Eastwood.

"What does it say, Marty? I forgot my reading glasses."

Marty recited the ancient book's text aloud:

_"In 1885, work began on what was to become the Hill Valley Court House. Hopes were high for the new building, which was to be the first permanent construction in Hill Valley. However, in 1941, only days after the tragic attack on Pearl Harbor, the government cut funding to the 56-year project in favor of supplying troops with more automatic rifles to sway the tide of World War II. The citizens of Hill Valley sent many letters in protest, but not enough of the letters were collected to save the Court House. The site was demolished in favor of the Hill Valley Memorial Park in 1948."_

"What?" Doc said, "There were plenty of letters! My own father sent one!"

Marty slowly realized his mistake. The truck. The letters.

"Doc, that's it!" Marty exclaimed, "The mail truck?"

"Mail truck? What mail truck?"

"The one I almost creamed on Riverside! The one that left all those…letters!"

"Marty how could you?"

"I'm sorry Doc, I was in such a hurry to find you and I…"

"Marty, Marty. You did a very noble thing coming to my rescue. Again. But this event must be reversed!"

"So they don't build the Court House," Marty said, "I feel bad and all, but who cares about a Court House?"

"Marty! Don't you understand the consequences? If those letters never reach the government, the Court House will never be finished. If it is demolished in 1948, lightning will never strike it…" Marty could see where Doc was going and he didn't like it.

"Lightning can't strike something that isn't there. If lightning never strikes the Court House, you will never be sent back to 1985 during the Hill Valley lightning storm! That event on the night of November 12th 1955 is pivotal our existence in the future!"

"So we go back to 1955 and tell the other you and the other me how to get the Delorean back to the future."

"Marty! You're not listening! Meeting our other selves could create a time paradox which could destroy the space time continuum!"

"Oh, right," Marty said quietly, "I forgot about that."

"We have to cut this snake off at the head. We must go back to 1941, shortly after your encounter with the mail truck. Then we have to get those letters delivered back to government by any and all means possible."

That was the plan, and quite frankly, it was the best one. Probably the only one that had a chance of working.

"Doc, why do have to cut these things so dang close?" Marty asked as they climbed back out of the library skylight. Of course, nothing was really convenient about not existing or being dead. But when Marty and Doc saw what had happened to the Delorean, death didn't sound so menacing.

The Delorean was, for the most part, okay. It had suffered no damage whatsoever in their little run-in with the police. It was something further back in the car that disturbed them.

Ah yes, the little white appliance from the future. The one that was necessary for fusion to happen. You guessed it; Mr. Fusion.

Only now, Mr. Fusion was no longer attached to the Delorean. It seemed that Hill Valley's finest were better shots then Marty or Doc thought.

Yes indeed. They were stuck in a time line where they didn't belong. Again.

"Great Scott! They got Mr. Fusion!" Doc yelled as if own of his own children had been kidnapped.

"You mean we're stuck here?" Marty said, "Again?" This was all a little too familiar than either Marty or Doc cared to remember. Being stuck in a time period were they didn't belong in the first place was one thing, but being the right time period, but with the wrong past behind them was another.

It was at that time that Marty noticed something wrong with the Doc. He was a little paler than usual. Much paler.

"Doc, are you feeling alright?" Marty asked. Doc Brown was now hunched over and grabbing his side.

"No, Marty! I feel terrible!" Doc said, falling to the ground.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh my god! My hand! Look at my hand!"

"It's fading!" Marty exclaimed. He was right; Doc's hand was becoming almost transparent. The Doc was ceasing to exist!

"What do I do, Doc?" Marty screamed.

"The station…" Doc gasped, "Get to the police station."

"The police? Why?"

"They probably still have…the plutonium cores!" Doc was fading fast now.

"How do I get them?"

"However…you can!" Doc said with his last breath, "Hurry!" With that, he completely faded from existence. Marty grabbed his forehead. This was worse than when he had watch Doc get shot by those Libyans.

Marty glanced at the Delorean. He had never learned to fly, much less pilot a flying car, something was never meant to fly in the first place.

He would have to learn fast.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Sunday, October 26th, 1985

2:13 AM

Marty wiped the beads of cold sweat from his forehead as he clamped his hands around the Delorean's steering wheel. Now where was that darned hover mode switch? He ran his hands over the dashboard in search of it. Hmmm…. There was green switch on the steering wheel.

The Delorean jolted and shook Marty. Yep, that was it. Now he was hovering a few feet off the roof of the library. Now Marty assumed that the steering wheel was like the joystick; maybe it worked like the jet fighter game at the arcade. Marty gingerly pulled back on the wheel. The nose of the Delorean angled up towards the night sky. Unfortunately, Marty was still going nowhere fast.

"Maybe I need to give it some gas…" Marty thought as he jammed on the throttle.

ZOOOOOMMMMM! The Delorean took off like fighter from a carrier's flight deck. Soon, the library appeared as nothing more than a spec in the grand view of Hill Valley. It was quite a spectacle to behold and Marty wished he would have time to enjoy it some time when he wasn't trying to put history back together.

"Now I've got to go down," Marty thought, "I must be getting close to the police station." He edged the wheel forward ever so slightly and the Delorean faithfully nosed downwards to the silent town. Soon, the modern, angular building of the Hill Valley Police Station was in sight. Marty looked around for a parking, er, landing spot.

I didn't take him long. He looked down and saw the same alleyway that Doc had landed in when he took Marty and Jennifer on that wild trip to 2015. Dark and out of the way, Marty figured it was his best chance.

It was a little rough, but besides the few trashcans that got mutilated and the poor cat that almost got squashed, Marty managed a reasonably safe landing.

"Okay, Doc, what'd you leave me?" Marty said quietly as he searched the Delorean for anything that might be useful. After all, sneaking into a police station in the middle of the night was not something he felt cut out to do.

A small black electronic object fell into his lap. The sleep inducing alpha rhythm generator! Marty had no idea how to use it, but there was only one button and he thought he could figure out the rest. Anyone who got in his way would be in for the nap of their lives.

Marty sneaked up to the edge of the sidewalk, gripping the generator like it would save his life. Maybe it would. He took a moment to look around the area. This was his home town and he should know it well, but with this alternate universe going on, he had to be sure he knew what was real.

_That's funny_, Marty thought to himself, _I could've sworn that Biff's shop was right here_. But Biff's shop was not there.

_Hmph_, Marty resolved indignantly, _Maybe he's a homeless bum. Serves him right_. With that he crept behind some obviously overgrown hedges until he was crouched next to the steps to the station's entrance. He could here three police officers standing on them discussing the recent encounters their fellow officers had had with a flying Delorean. It was funny though. Their voices seemed very familiar to Marty.

Marty looked at the clock near the First Bank of America. It read "2:31 AM". He really needed to hurry up and get those guys out of the way. Maybe a little distraction was in order. He looked over at a nearby bench.

There, on the bench, was the poorly clothed and smelly Red: the neighborhood bum. Mart reached in his pocket and pulled out a fifty. The police were going to get one heck of a diversion.

- - - - -

"…So I says to the guy 'you saw a flying Delorean?' and he says 'yeah it flew right over our heads!'", Said the first officer. "I tell ya, what a bunch of malarkey."

"Rivers musta really flipped out. The Lieutenant is readin' him the rite act on it." Amongst the officers' jovial conversation, a short fellow in a dirty jacket that was two sizes too small approached them. The officers stared cockeyed at the strange homeless-looking guy.

"S'cuse me, officers," the old guy said. It was obvious from the way he slurred his speech that he had already had one too many beers. "But I just saw a man rip off an old lady's purse. You might want to catch that son of a gun."

"Who do we look like?" the third officer said, "Mother Teresa? Get lost, Red!" Red looked discouraged and his eyes brightened as he got another idea.

"Hey!" he said, "You fellers should really try some o' this!" He hurled a half-empty bottle of beer at the first officer. The sticky liquid splattered all over his blue uniform. Red chuckled and instantly turned around and ran.

"After that guy!" Said the first officer as they took off. Red just kept running, thumbing a fifty dollar bill in his pocket and wondering how he would spend it once he escaped these guys.

- - - - -

Marty watched from the bushes as Red led the officers on a wild goose chase through the city. Once he was confident that no one was looking, Marty leapt over the railing and bolted up the steps. He stopped at the door and peered inside. No one yet.

Opening the door as slowly as he could, Marty crept in. He had only been to the station once, and that was a field trip during 5th grade. He looked at the sign that was posted for visitors. It held a list of all the services offered and a list rooms that corresponded with it.

"'Evidence Collection'." Marty said to himself, "That looks like the right one." It was apparently upstairs in room 201. He would have to be stealthy.

As the teenager crept up the wooden stairs he thought to himself, _Man this just like the time I tailed Strickland into his office_. It felt like it was just yesterday, but in fact it was technically thirty years ago when Marty tried to obtain that sports almanac from a younger and meaner Biff Tannen.

As it turned out, the door to the evidence room was unlocked. Apparently security was pretty lax at night. Marty peered into the thick glass and instantly spotted that familiar yellow case. The side read "WARNING: Plutonium. Handle with care." Just for luck, he cracked it open and spotted ten vials still inside. That meant he had ten tries to get it right.

Marty suddenly remembered how volatile the substance was and gingerly closed the lid, making sure he secured all the latches. Now for the escape.

Marty knew he wasn't James Bond or anything, but he figured Red was still giving those idiot cops a run for their money so all he had to do was slip out quietly the same way he came in.

Marty was just on his way down the wooden stairs when he heard the sickening sound of pistol being cocked. He froze.

"Where the heck do you think you're going with that, butthead?" Marty turned to face the speaker with one hand raised in surrender.

It was Biff Tannen! "Hey! You're McFly's boy!"

"Uh," Marty stammered, "Yeah, uh, that's right Biff."

"That's Lieutenant Tannen to you, punk!" Biff growled, his face angry as a bulldog's. Marty finally noticed the blue uniform, along with a shiny police badge and a very shiny pistol.

Just then, the three cops who had chased after Red bumbled into the room. Marty finally made the connection: they were Biff's friends from 1955. Apparently they had become too good of friends. Good enough to get each of them a job in their corrupted police force.

If Marty thought he was in trouble before, he had another thing coming. He was stuck in an alternate universe with the only hope of getting things fixed in his very hands. Doc was erased from existence and now it looked like Marty was going to have a very unfriendly chat with "Lieutenant" Biff Tannen.


	7. Chapter 6

_Sorry the latest two chapters have been kinda short. I promise to make Chapter seven longer._

_- flicker404_

**Chapter Six**

Sunday, October 26th, 1985

3:00 AM

Sitting handcuffed to the yellow case of plutonium was not very fun. It was even less fun for Marty McFly because he sat face to face with Hill Valley's most corrupt citizen and was at the wrong end of an interrogation. Not mention he didn't have a lot of options. His fingers couldn't even reach the sleep inducing alpha rhythm generator.

Lieutenant Biff Tannen had requested his cronies wait outside the front of the station like they were supposed to and after seeing the enraged look on Tannen's face, the officers decided it was a good idea.

Now Tannen turned his attention to Marty, who sat uneasily in his chair.

"So tell me what you think you're doing with that plutonium. Gonna blow up the school?"

"No," Marty said, then added, "Sir."

"I don't like you snooping around. I already got you nailed for tampering with evidence in an on-going homicide investigation and trespassing on government property. If it were up to me, I'd skin your hide right now and send a letter to your parents! Now what was Old Man Brown doing with that plutonium?"

"A, uh, science experiment."

"With was he experimenting on, blowing up the whole town?"

"No." Marty had to think of something fast. It wiggled his wrist. It seems Biff's partners were not as good at putting on handcuffs as they thought.

"Then what was it?" Biff said, his angry face returning as he tightened his grip on that ugly pistol.

"Uh, well…" Marty stammered. He was almost free!

"You'd better come up with something better than that!" Now Biff had the pistol aimed at Marty's head and scowled even more.

At last, Marty's wrist was free of the handcuffs. "Hold on, Biff, uh, Lieutenant."

Biff paused. He was waiting for the right answer.

"Well," Marty continued, gripping the yellow case, "He was using it for a new type of car. One that runs on plutonium."

"A car that runs on plutonium? I ain't never seen one like that."

_Actually, you probably have_. Marty thought, as he pointed suddenly to the window behind Biff's head.

"Biff!" Marty cried, "What the heck is that?" Biff spun around to see what Marty was ranting on about when it hit him like a bag of bricks.

CRONK! More like a case of plutonium.

Now Biff lay unconscious on top of the desk, a small radioactive symbol imprinted on his forehead. Marty pumped his fist in celebration before remembering he was on a mission.

Marty burst out of the office and toted the case of plutonium as he slid down the banister to the first floor. He ran outside to the front of the station where Biff's buddies where.

"Hey, how'd you get out?"

"Guys look at that!" The crooked cops turned as Marty plowed into the first one, which plowed in the second, which plowed into the third.

As the cops collected their wits, Marty was already on his way back to the alley. It would take them several minutes to figure out where he had gone to.

Marty reached the Delorean and quickly opened the container and removed a vial as carefully but as hurriedly as he could. He placed the vial in the reactor chamber as Doc had showed him yesterday at the Lone Pine Mall parking lot. The red tube slid into the reactor with a clink as the flux capacitor flickered to life.

Now or never! Marty thought as he jumped in the cockpit and hurriedly punched in the destination.

Destination: December 31st, 1941, 12:15 pm

A few minutes after the mail truck had left and he would have plenty of time to get those letters and then save Doc and then fix Doc's train and then-

Unfortunately, there were no more 'thens', because a very angry Biff Tannen and his cronies were running down the alley at breakneck speed with very determined looks on there faces.

If they didn't believe a flying Delorean before, they're going to have one heck of a surprise! The Delorean's headlights switched on, momentarily blinding Biff and company. As the crooked cops shielded their eyes, the Delorean was already thirty feet above them and rising.

The cops were stunned for about three seconds.

"Come on you idiots!" Biff screamed, "After him!" The cronies and Biff piled into the only available patrol car and sped off out of the parking lot. They could now see only a trace of the Delorean's headlights piercing the night sky.

"I think he's going to take 35th street!" said one officer.

"You idiot!" Biff yelled back, "He's not on a street!" The cops kept their eyes peeled to the skies ahead. The Delorean was still in sight.

Up above, Marty pushed the throttle harder. Eighty-six, eighty-seven, eighty-eight. Getting up to speed was a lot easier in the sir.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The Delorean disappeared into the sky in three cracks of light as loud as thunder claps. The officers in the patrol car squinted at the trails of fire left behind.

"He disappeared!" exclaimed the first. Then he looked ahead and tried to get Lieutenant Tannen's attention.

"Lieutenant! Look out!" The patrol car was coming up fast on a large truck. Biff looked forward just in time to see the rear end. He slammed on the brakes, but the rain-slicked roads provided no grip. The police car skidded sideways as it crashed into the truck.

The damage was done. The truck's tailgate was broken, spilling its contents into the police car's open windows. Fresh, rain-soaked, manure.

The driver's side door opened as the muck piled onto the street. A very enraged Biff Tannen stumbled from the car.

"Manure! I hate Manure!"

- - - - -

In 1941, a shaken Marty left the Delorean under a tree and ran off into Hill Valley to find Doc. At that very same moment, another Delorean time machine had just materialized in the afternoon sky and set down opposite its twin in some more tall grass. Marty glanced at every which way to make sure that his former self was indeed gone. He didn't want to risk making one of those paradox things Doc was always talking about.

Marty hopped out and looked at the ground. Yep, there were the letters. About twenty of them in all. He stooped down and pulled them out of the dirt and mud. The first one bore the name Wilhelm Brown. Wow! That was probably the letter Doc's father sent. Doc would probably want to see that.

The second one was a little more interesting. It was addressed to Lt. Ronald B. McFly; Marty's grandfather. It was apparently from the government and Marty didn't have to guess what that meant.

The rest were all addressed to the government. They were all petitions to save the clock tower.

"Okay, Doc," Marty said to himself, "What now?" Marty realized that even with the letters, he had no way of knowing where they were supposed to go, or even how to get them there. The real question was, where was Doc?

Of course, he ceased to exist in 1985! That meant that unless Marty got the letters to the right place, there would be no Doc!

Some one had to now what to do. Some one who knew Doc well. Some one like…

There was only one answer, and right now, she was taking care of two boys named Jules and Verne at the bottom of Eastwood Ravine.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Monday, December 31st, 1941

2:00 PM

Marty raced through Hill Valley like a mad man. Many people turned and stared at this strangely-dressed fellow bounding along at breakneck speed. Out-of-towners were so odd-mannered.

But Marty didn't really care. Once again, he was racing about his home town in a time period he didn't belong in, trying desperately to fix a problem in history that he had caused. He actually had to chuckle at himself. _I'm getting pretty good at saving Hill Valley_. But when he reached the edge of the ravine, his grin soon disappeared.

Same old ravine he had nearly fallen into in 1885, but it was different. For one, the sign that had once read "Eastwood Ravine" now had changed to "Clayton Ravine."

Marty had to sit down. He was really stuck this time. He was expecting his father to come out of nowhere and ground him for the rest of life. He knew he had messed things up bad.

"If the government doesn't get those letters, the clock tower will never be built. If the clock tower is never built, it can't be struck by lightning. If the clock tower is never struck by lightning, I never go back to the future. If I never go back to the future, Doc will still have been shot. If Doc dies, he'll never go back to 1885 and meet Clara. If Clara never meets Doc…" Marty let his thoughts trail off.

Someone had to know. And that was when it hit him.

His grandfather! He would know where they go! But was he already at the front line? No, he wouldn't go for another two weeks! Marty stood and decided to find his grandfather. Ronald McFly was right; he would see Marty in the future.

- - - - -

KNOCK! KNOCK! Marty rapped his hand against the wooden front door. He remembered this house very well. It was the same one his father George had lived in around 1955. It had changed that much, save for being a little newer-looking.

"Hello?" Marty turned back to face the front door.

"Oh, hi. Um, is Ronald, er, I mean is Lt. McFly home?"

"Why yes, of course," The woman turned to get her husband. It was kinda weird for Marty seeing his grandmother this young. It was like the time he met his mother as a teenager and, well, some things were best left forgotten.

Soon, Ronald McFly appeared at the door. "What can I help you with? Oh, wait a minute. You're that fellow Don was ratting on over by the Court House."

"Yeah, the name's Marty." The teen answered, putting his hand forward. Ronald took it.

"You got a last name, Marty?"

"Uh," Marty thought, "Brown. Marty Brown."

"Brown, eh? Any chance you're related to those new folks from Germany? Let's see, what was his name? Oh yes; Wilhelm. And he had a wife and kid named Emmett I think. Strange kid…" Ronald said quietly.

"Yeah, uh, listen Gramps, uh, Ronald. Can you do me a favor? I know back in town you said you were headed to the front lines and I was wondering…" Marty held up the bundle of letters, "…Could you get these letters to the right people?"

"What are they for?"

"Uh, the Court House. If the government doesn't get them, the Court House won't be built, uh, maybe. Like it might not get built, and I really like that place, even though I've never been there because it's not finished, but…" Marty realized he was going nowhere fast and only succeeding in making his grandfather think he was an idiot.

But Ronald just smiled. "You know, I never thought you were the history-loving type. I think that's real upright of you to take such an interest in this town." Ronald grabbed the letters, "I'll get these letters where they need to go. Don't you worry."

It was at that moment that a small boy came running through the front door, wielding a small tin rocket ship and producing the necessary sounds for spaceflight. He nearly tripped over Marty and ran headlong into Ronald.

"George!" Ronald scolded, "What did I tell you about that blasted toy rocket ship?"

"But, daddy," a six-year-old George protested, "I want to be a spaceman!" With all the attention span a six-year-old could have, George immediately lost interest in what his father was saying and promptly resumed his spaceman fantasy.

"That boy," Ronald said, shaking his head, "He's got more crazy notions than that Brown kid."

"Be easy on him," Marty consoled, "He's just creative." Both Ronald and Marty stood for a few second in an awkward silence. It was still strange to Marty to be talking to someone who he knew would be killed in a few years. It was like he wanted him to be careful, if only to be around when Marty himself was born so he could learn things from him.

"Be careful," Marty said without thinking, "Cause, um, you got a great life here and I would hate to see little George so lonely…"

"I will, son." Ronald said, "You bet I will." With that, they shook hands and the white door closed shut. Marty just stood there, wishing he could change his family's future.

But he already had.

- - - - -

Marty was running fast again. He was getting exhausted very fast. The only way to figure out if it worked was to go back to 1985 and pick up Doc from the roof of the library. Marty hoped he would be there.

- - - - -

It was like a light at the end of a tunnel. No, wait a minute. That couldn't be right. It was darker than tar outside. Doc picked himself up from the cold concrete he had been sleeping on.

Was he really sleeping? It was kind of like sleeping, but different. Then again, what he considered unconsciousness was not what other people considered unconsciousness. Yet again, Einstein's theory of relativity was working its wonders.

Then Doc's thoughts returned. He remembered something about a fellow named Fusion. Mr. Fusion? That sounded right.

No! Not a man! A machine! It was like the light bulb finally came on. Doc was up here because it was the last place he saw Marty. Before the future got twisted even more. Or was it twisted to begin with?

The Court House! There was another brief subject jumping into his head. They were like popcorn today; exploding left and right without rhyme or reason.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Speaking of exploding…

- - - - -

The Delorean's windshield brought the Hill Valley Public Library into view. Marty was finding it hard to see through the darkness over the billions of lighted control panels and switches Doc had installed. He glanced one more time at the destination display to make sure he was in the right time. That was when he found the head lights.

Almost immediately the roofline of the library was illuminated in the bright white glow. If Marty wasn't mistaken, he could see a tall man with wild white hair waving madly from the roof.

The Doc! He was alive.

They were going to get out of this yet!

- - - - -

Doc shielded his eyes from the glare of the lit undercarriage. The hovering Delorean was never such a welcome sight in all his life. Not even that time when Marty came back after that incident with the Libyans. Well, maybe not.

The wheels folded up as the car touched down. Marty McFly's familiar frame burst out of the gull-wing doors.

"Doc!" He shouted, "It worked! I gave the letters to my grandfather and it worked! The old man came through for us!"

"I'm really proud of you, Marty!" Doc said, embracing Marty and then stepping back to make sure he was all right, "Great job! Now we have to get back to 1941 and fix that train!" Things were looking bright even among the dark night sky.

"I'm with you, Doc! Let's do it!"

The Delorean rose faithfully from its resting place on the library's roof. Like it had done a dozen times before, the stainless-steel flying car pierced through the night and disappeared once again.

The future was almost set. Almost.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Monday, December 31st, 1941

3:30 PM

The Delorean touched down on in Eastwood Ravine. Yes, _Eastwood_ Ravine, Marty had glanced at the sign as they came in for a landing just to make sure. The relief was coming in waves now for both he and Doc.

When the car landed and the two passengers got out, Marty could see why Doc needed the flight circuits. From where they were standing, it looked like the entire steam engine had plummeted from the sky and drove itself into the earth like a meteorite. The trail of dirt stretched almost as far as the ravine itself.

Doc ran towards the sight of his wife and children. Clara received a huge kiss from the scientist and both of the boys were promised rides in the strange new time machine their father had just landed in.

Clara seemed relieved to the point of tears and she almost broke down crying. "Oh, Emmett, we were so worried. You've been gone for several hours."

"Never the worse for wear, my dear." Emmett said, embracing her. "It's all in the past."

"You mean the future?" Marty asked.

"Oh yes." Doc said, thinking for a moment, "Quite right."

"Whatever took you so long?" Clara asked as Doc put on his work gloves.

"We ran into a few snags." Doc said, now ducking to get under the train. After he had squeezed in, his eccentric voice could be heard echoing off the iron clad boiler, "Marty did just the right thing at just the right time and he's the only reason that I'm alive today."

Clara smiled at Marty. Ever since that day that he and Doc had rescued her from her runaway carriage, she had considered Marty more respectable than most children she knew of that age. It was easy to tell she was thankful once more for Marty bring Doc back.

"Blast!" came Doc's voice from beneath the train. It was followed by a loud clanging noise that Marty safely assumed was the sound of Doc's cranium striking the very hard iron clad boiler. Then came the clamor of tools falling out of a toll chest and onto Doc's foot, which emanated yet another "Blast it All!" from the scientist. This lead to Doc striking his head on the boiler yet again in frustration.

Marty tried to suppress a grin in the heat of Doc's misfortune while Clara, obviously very alarmed, knelt down to see under the train. Einstein came bounding through the bushes and stared with his head sideways and one ear perked up. He simply moaned in curiosity at what had happened to his master.

As Marty had assumed, Doc was perfectly fine. None of his inventions had hurt him thus far. Doc dusted himself off and gingerly rubbed the back of his head.

"Well, that's not going to work." He mumbled as he sat down on a crate that had been turned upside down to pose as a makeshift chair.

"What's not going to work, Doc?" Marty asked.

"I hate it when you say such foolish things, Emmett." Clara said, reprimanding him with a look.

"Those flight circuits aren't going to work. I didn't remove the bad ones properly and now the new ones just blew a fuse! Oh, Einstein! What am I going to do now?"

Einstein simply cocked his head the other way and then licked Doc's greasy glove.

"What about the other time machine, Emmett?" Clara asked, "Does it have the right parts?"

"No, my dear. The flight circuits would only work for about thirty seconds before…" Doc's eyes shot towards the Delorean, then to the train, then to the Delorean again. In one wild motion he jumped up from the crate and started pacing back and forth like he always did. The only thing Marty and Clara could do was stand back and let the brilliant, albeit scatter-brained, scientist work through his idea. They knew better than to interrupt Doc's thinking as it might be their ticket back to the future.

"Okay, okay," Doc said, massaging his temples and letting the thoughts get back to normal, "We know it won't fly on it's own and we know that the Delorean's circuits won't work…" Doc rambled on.

"Doc," Marty ventured, "You said it might fly for thirty seconds. Well, they way I see it, it'll only take thirty seconds to get up to the top of that bridge." Marty pointed up to the massive structure that spanned the ravine.

"Marty!" Doc said, his eyes wide with excitement, "By George, you're right! All we need is thirty seconds!" Doc hopped back to the Delorean and opened up the hood. Marty and Clara gave each other looks.

Doc was up to his old tricks again. He had a plan, but for some reason, it was always one of those things that ended up being more like an action scene than a time-traveling experiment.

Why did time travel have to be so hard?

- - - - -

Now it was close to six o'clock in the after noon on December 31st, 1941. The sun was nearly starting to set and most people in the small town of Hill Valley were on their way home. No one would concerned in the slightest way about what was about to happen at the Eastwood Bridge.

And, for their own safety, that was probably a good thing.

Down at the base of Eastwood Ravine, Doc was testing one of his walkie-talkies. It was attached to a solar cell so it would never run out of juice, and a longer antenna to widen the radius of contact. He spoke into the receiver.

"Marty, are you there?" Doc hollered.

"Yeah, Doc! I'm here!" Marty was standing on top of the Eastwood Bridge. He walked over to the Delorean, which was also on the bridge, and leaned against the front fender. The Delorean had been fitted with the train wheels again. The real wheels were safe in the trunk.

"We're ready up here!" The 'we' Marty was speaking of was him and Einstein. The poor dog had missed Marty so much that he planted himself firmly in the Delorean's passenger seat and refused to budge. 'Let him ride in the Delorean.' Doc had said.

Down below, Doc received Marty's signal.

Doc was standing in the conductor's cabin of the train. Clara, Jules, and Verne sat in seats in the cabin with him. Doc reached for a large golden rod and pulled it back gently.

The big black train shook and shuttered as it displaced the dirt and grass around it. Doc pulled the whistle just for good luck and the mammoth steam engine lifted up into the air as it's iron wheels folded up beneath it. The rocket-ship fins branched put as the train rose higher and higher.

Soon, Marty could see the train hover above the bridge.

"It's all clear Doc!" he shouted. He could see Doc wave his hand from the cabin in response. The black engine lined up with the rails and carefully set down with a loud 'swoosh'. The cabin door opened up.

"That's it, Marty!" Doc hollered, "Now lets get back to the future!"

No sooner had Doc finished his sentence than a large cracking sound followed by a fuse burning out reached their ears. The entire group rushed towards the front of the train where the sound had come from. They all got that sickening feeling right away.

That flux capacitor that Doc had built for his train was spitting out sparks from behind a shattered case. Then it died altogether.

That was prone to be a problem.

"Great Scott!" Doc said and cursed, "I put to much strain on the reactor and it overloaded the flux capacitor!" He threw his gloves down on the tracks. "It'll take me months to rebuild it!"

These little emergencies were starting to wear a little.


	10. Chapter 9

_Okay, admit it; you knew there was going to be a _Back To The Future_ story with the flux capacitor getting destroyed. Sorry if it seems more like BTTF Part III, but that was my favorite movie of the trilogy._

_- flicker404_

**Chapter Nine**

Monday, December 31st, 1941

6:46 PM

The plan, as Doc had said, was quite simple. Of course, that was what he said last time they had attempted something this daring. Like striking a cable at the right second as a lighting bolt hit the Court House, or pushing the Delorean up to 88mph in a steam train. Whatever the reasons, Doc came up with the wildest, craziest ideas and somehow, out of his deranged mind, managed to label them as 'simple'.

There was nothing simple about this plan. In fact, Marty could've sworn he needed his doctorate just to understand it.

Doc was bent over the hood of the Delorean placing some of Jules' and Verne's toys on the hood. When his masterpiece was done at last, he beckoned Clara and Marty to join him.

"Now listen up, Marty and Clara. I apologize for the crudity of this model, but…"

"It's fine, Doc." Marty interjected.

"Yes, well, okay," Doc cleared his throat. "Now, normally we would need a flux capacitor for both vehicles. As you could tell, the one I installed on the train was much bigger, but it was necessary to make a rift in the space-time continuum big enough. The Delorean is obviously much smaller, but the flux capacitor works the same way."

Marty and Clara looked down at Doc's 'crude' model. He had a small car, presumably the Delorean, placed in front of a toy steam engine.

"Uh, Doc, this looks a little familiar…"

"Don't worry, Marty. It's necessary. I've attached this deflector dish to the back of the Delorean. It'll disperse the flux energy around both the Delorean and the train. Once we get up to 88mph, we will instantly be transported back into 1985 where I can repair both vehicles."

"Wow," Marty said, "You're right, that doesn't sound hard."

"But without Mr. Fusion, we won't have enough energy to increase the warp field. If my calculations are correct, we need twice the power of a normal nuclear reaction to send both vehicles through time."

"So we're screwed?" Marty said, hysterical.

"No, Marty. Not at all. We simply need the power of two nuclear reactions. That means we'll still need these." Doc said as he planted his hand on the yellow case of plutonium cores and smiled. Marty had a feeling he wouldn't like where this was going.

"So…"

"So I have a solution."

"Which is…?"

"Marty, I need you change out the cores mid-travel. That would be at approximately," Doc checked his pocket watch, "Eighty-four miles per hour."

"Emmett!" Clara scolded, "That sounds extremely dangerous."

Marty just rolled his eyes at Clara's comment. _If only you knew what danger he's put me through_.

"Well, as long as Marty is careful," Doc said, "And he must wear this. Other wise the flux energy dispersal might burn him alive."

"Wear what?" Marty asked. Doc held up a neatly folded radiation suit. It was just like the one Marty had worn the day the Delorean made her maiden voyage.

"Great." Marty said, "So when do we start this crazy stunt?"

"Oh, promptly at 7:00 pm. If we don't, we risk running head-on into the Hill Valley Freight train which is leaving the station in a few minutes."

"Doc?"

"Yes, Marty?"

"Seven o'clock was four minutes ago!"

It took no less than a few seconds for the information to register, "Great Scott! Marty put this on! Clara, you and the boys get ready!"

It was go time. Everyone was scrambling to get in position for what was probably the craziest time travel voyage ever in the history of Hill Valley.

"Doc, why do we always have to cut these things so dang close?"

- - - - -

Marty was just inputting the destination display code in the Delorean's circuits when Doc came up to him, rushing wildly as usual.

"Okay, Marty. Here's a walkie-talkie and the cores. Good luck." He rushed back to the train as Marty secretly wished for some good luck of his own. They would need it.

TOOT! TOOT! Came the signal from the train. It hissed and bellowed steam as the wheels slowly began churning. After a few slips, they found their footing and the train was off to a start.

_These things are getting way to weird_, Marty said as the train bumped him from behind and the trip started. There was no turning back now.

Pretty soon, they were almost to the edge of the bridge. The small town of Hill Valley was coming slowly into view. Doc radioed Marty with instructions.

"Okay, Marty," he instructed, "I need you charge the time circuits."

Marty flipped the switch in the center console and the destination display came to life as the flux capacitor's glowing yellow tubes lit up. "Okay!"

"Now input the destination date: October 25th, 1985, Midnight."

"But Doc, when we went back it was a Sunday! What about paradoxes?"

"Don't worry, Marty. If we have indeed succeeding in replacing those letters, there won't be that alternate 1985. We will have never have needed to make that trip."

"Gotcha." Marty inputted the destination.

"Now, Marty, I apologize for not giving you ample time to replace the cores mid-trip, so I'll give you a little crash course." The country side was coming up fast now. They had just crossed the bridge and the small "Eastwood Ravine" sign flew past them.

"What you need to do," Doc continued, "Is to have the second core ready. I've already loaded the first one in the chamber and it should be at full strength."

Marty looked for a power light and noticed it was at its peak. "It's full up, Doc."

"I'm going to accelerate much slower once we reach eighty miles per hour. The cores must be changed at eighty-four miles per hour or it we won't have enough power."

Marty trusted he knew what the Doc was talking about. "You're the Doc, Doc."

"Good man. Now I know it will be difficult, but please remember to try not to drop the cores. I don't have to tell you what that means."

"I don't have to be a rocket scientist." Marty said.

"Marty…" Doc started. There was something in his voice. "It really should be me up there. After all, this whole mess is my fault. I should've never involved you."

"Nonsense!" Marty said, cheering him up, "If I wasn't around, who else is going to rescue you and Clara." The Doc chuckled with Marty. It was a good way to relieve the tension.

Now the trees were rushing by at a rate of, Marty checked the speedometer, sixty miles per hour. The teenager looked around the cabin of the Delorean and saw an old map with lines drawn on it. The title and legend read "Hill Valley Railroad Co." Marty unfolded it and placed over the steering wheel.

Now if this thing was right, they would have about five more miles before they hit civilization. Marty traced the line with his finger and it came to rest on a small box that was labeled "Hill Valley Central Station". It was right on the outskirts of the town. What really caught Marty's attention was the red "X" scribbled right near the station. It was accompanied by the words "Point of no return". Man, Doc had planned this out to the letter. And in only a few minutes.

Marty's eyes had trouble adjusting to the poor light as he tried to read the map's schedule that was printed on the back. It was starting to get dark outside pretty fast. The sun was no more than a red lump in the horizon and the clouds gave off their evening purplish hue. He brought the document closer to his face.

The schedule was a listing of the trains leaving the station and their respected times. According to this, the train would leave at 7:00 pm today just as Doc had said. It was a little scribble down at the bottom that really caught his eye.

Marty squinted harder. It was a handwritten note signed by the station master. "All freight leaving on 12/31 leave fifteen minutes early". He wondered if Doc had seen that.

"Doc, Doc. Come in Doc." Marty called out into the walkie-talkie.

"Yes, Marty?" Doc answered.

"Doc, did you see this note about the trains leaving early?"

"What?" Doc said, his voice growing suddenly hoarse. Marty relayed the note on the map.

"Great Scott!"

"Well is there any way you can make us goo a little faster?" Marty asked.

"Only one way to find out!" Doc said, "Let's see what she's got!" Moments after Doc replied, Marty felt an increase in acceleration as Doc pulled on the whistle. The train screeched and faster it went. The speedometer on the Delorean went up from sixty-five to seventy in under a minute.

"That should do the trick." Doc radioed back, "I've made a few modifications to the boiler."

"Great." Now they were back in business. Marty reached into the yellow case and grabbed a vial of plutonium. He looked down at the weird hazard suit and placed the radio in one pocket and the plutonium core in the other.

"Marty!" Came Doc's voice a moment later, "We're at eighty miles per hour. Climb out onto the roof now!"

"Alright, Doc!" Marty put the walkie-talkie back in his pocket and reached for the door.

SWOOSH! The door flew up effortlessly as the ground passed by him only a few feet away. It was funny how much faster eighty miles per hour seemed when you were so close to the ground. Everything seemed like a blur.

"Well", Marty thought, "It's now or never!" He put his left leg onto the running board and placed his left hand firmly on the seat's headrest. Then Marty pulled himself up so his back was facing the interior of the Delorean and the country side, mostly trees, passed before him.

Just for good luck, he turned his head to face the miles of track before him. Good, no oncoming trains. He just had to relax.

Marty swung his leg over the rear flux-dispersal band so he was hanging on to the back of the Delorean's roof. His left knee rested on one of the rear exhaust vents and his elbow was nearly touching the plutonium chamber.

"Marty!" Doc said, "Put you visor down! You have to shield your eyes! We're staring to make a rift in the space-time continuum!" Marty looked behind. Yep, doc was right; the dispersion bands were slowly turning a bright shade of neon blue. He climbed up so his back face forward and he could see the reaction chamber.

Then the first crack came. It was followed by another and another until the whole car was giving off sparks. They followed all the way back to the train which was now also giving off sparks and lighting up around the wheels. The warp field was coming to life.

"Okay, Marty, when I tell you, open up the chamber and vent the excess energy!"

"Won't that kill me?"

"No, Marty, it's a very small yield. But you need to do it now because the reactor needs a second to cool off. Otherwise it'll overheat and destroy us all!"

"Gotcha." Marty said. He smiled at Doc's comment. He was always thinking in terms of a worst-case scenario. He popped the lid and a smoky substance streamed from the chamber and from the vents at the rear.

"Okay," Marty said quietly to the core in his pocket, "In you go!" He lay flat so as not to make the slightest movement. But this was all very tricky at eighty-plus miles per hour.

He carefully aligned the vial with the opening. It was almost on top of the hole when they hit a bump.

"Oops." Which made Marty lose his grip on the vial.

"Oops." Which caused the vial to tumble backwards toward the train. It almost careened over the edge when it caught on the train's snowplow. And it was still intact.

Marty just sat there, stunned for a second. It didn't break! They were safe! He moved to the back of the Delorean and positioned himself so he could climb onto the front of the train and retrieve it.

TOOT! TOOT! Doc was trying to scare him or something. What was the big idea? "Doc, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Marty shouted into the walkie-talkie.

"That wasn't me." Doc said back, perplexed. Marty turned his head the other way and instantly wished he hadn't.

There, off in the distance were three lights. Three lights that were attached to a freight train, no doubt. A freight train that was coming right at them.

Marty groaned as he glanced at the oncoming train and back at the plutonium core. Today was not his day.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Monday, December 31st, 1941

7:13 PM

Trains. Cars. Time travel. These were things that normally didn't coexist in the same universe. Normal being the operative word. Now things were headed way south of a physics homework problem gone bad.

Marty McFly found himself pinned between a steam train and a Delorean going eighty some miles per hour towards another train headed straight for them on a level stretch of railroad track.

The teenager tried his hardest peel his eyes away from the oncoming train that spelled certain disaster for both he and the Brown family. At last, he turned his gaze long enough to remember why he was hanging off the back of a Delorean in the first place.

The plutonium core! It had dropped from the Delorean and onto the snowplow of Doc's mighty steam-powered time machine. Now Marty's hand was inches away from the precious energy source. Just a little further…

TOOT! TOOT! The oncoming freight train whistled it's warning again. Marty leaned forward once more and grabbed the core.

"Gotcha!" The core was his! Now it needed to be loaded into the reactor in a very short amount of time or else, well, Marty didn't even want to think about it.

Marty climbed back onto the Delorean and reached for the reactor's fuming opening. The core was almost in place.

TOOT! TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT! Now it seemed the poor engineers in the freight train were getting serious. They were obviously signaling to Doc that he needed to slow down.

Marty did his best to ignore the noise and the countryside rushing rapidly by him. He finally stretched his hand a far as it could go.

SLUMP! The core dropped into the reactor with a satisfying sound. Marty quickly closed the hatch and climbed out onto the roof.

Oh boy. That train was really getting close. Marty fought through the warp field that the Delorean's flux capacitor was generating and climbed down into the cockpit.

"I did it, Doc!" he shouted into the walkie-talkie, "We did it! Now let's get back to the future!"

"I couldn't agree with you more, Marty!" came Doc's voice. By now, the warp field surrounded both the train and the Delorean and the train. Marty looked ahead to see the opposing freight locomotive charging at them.

"I can't look!" Marty said as he covered his eyes.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! A flash of brilliant light filled the sky as the Delorean and the trailing locomotive disappeared into the night, leaving only a trail of fire and a very surprised freight train crew behind.

- - - - -

Not much happened in the backyard of what Doc called his lab. Of course, not much ever happened along Riverside Drive; a street that remained relatively non-descript and boring.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Well, so much for nondescript and boring…

- - - - -

Marty opened his eyes. It was darkness. Maybe he'd died and gone to heaven. Well, if this was heaven, he was pretty disappointed. There were no angels, no golden streets, but then again, there were no freight trains. Every tragedy had its bright side.

Then he realized the darkness was just outside. He was still inside the Delorean. And if he was still inside the Delorean with a dumb hazard suit and a big yellow box of plutonium it meant, for the hundredth time, that Doc was right. Crazy, but definitely right.

Marty opened the gull-wing door and stepped out. Both the Delorean and the train had rolled to a stop on the railway tracks right behind Doc's lab. They had really made it.

The door to the cabin on Doc's train folded open and Doc, Clara, and the boys rushed out to meet him.

"Well done, my boy!" Doc said, grinning from ear to ear as if one of his sons had won the Olympics. He gave Marty a big hug as did Clara. The boys shook Marty's hand and the teenager decided he would have to show them how to high-five someday. Even Einstein seemed to be aware that Marty was yet again responsible for another jump through the space-time continuum.

"What do you say we get these machines into the garage and start making a few modifications?" Doc said.

Jules and Verne both piped up, "Really? Let's do it!" They were apparently taking very closely after their father.

In a matter of minutes, both time machines were safe at home in Doc's garage. The train was put into a large shed Doc had built specifically for it that had disguised railroad tracks leading onto the mainline in the backyard. The Delorean was taken off the railroad wheels and put back onto its street tires.

It seemed that Doc had no problems fixing Mr. Fusion at all. The scientist kept a few models in his lab to perform other frivolous duties and had no trouble installing a replacement.

The train would need more extensive repairs, but Marty had no doubt that Doc's enthusiasm for inventing things would lend itself admirably to the project which even Jules and Verne seemed enthused about.

Marty was just going to teach Jules and Verne how to skateboard when he heard Doc's frightful; cream from the driveway.

"Marty! What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton happened here?"

"Oh," Marty said, "That."

"I think this deserves a little more explanation, Marty." Doc said. He was right; the broken shingles and gapping hole in the roof were a bit obvious.

"Needles was chasing me and I didn't know about the elevator and I, I…"

"Marty," Doc said, his smile returning, "You know, I really don't mind."

Marty was dumbstruck, "I, well, you're not mad?"

"No, Marty." Doc said, "How can I? You have proven yourself to be a far more resourceful and far more responsible time traveler than myself. I have a lot to learn from you."

"Well, Doc," Marty said, "You're not so bad yourself."

"That's why I've decided to make you an offer, if your interested."

An offer? What for? "What do you mean, Doc?"

"I was wondering if you'd make a trade; The Delorean for your truck. I feel you can be trusted with a time machine and Jules and Verne might be driving in a few years. A time machine is hardly a good learning vehicle." Marty had to think that over. He had always wanted that Toyota. He'd even swore to Jennifer on many occasions that he would someday own that truck. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he really loved that Delorean. In fact, he'd been envious of Doc's car since the day of it's maiden voyage.

"You got a deal, Doc. Thanks."

"The pleasure's all mine, I assure you." Doc said. "Looks like I'll be hanging around a little longer."

- - - - -

Marty bid farewell to the Brown family and quietly drove home. After parking in the garage, Marty yawned and for the first time felt tired. Yeah, sleep would work wonders right now.

The obnoxious sound of Marty's alarm clock was the next thing he heard. He woke up and pressed the snooze button. He figured he was good for another five minutes.

Not quite.

"Dad! Dad!" It was Linda's annoying voice shrieking through the house. Marty rolled lazily out of bed and looked through his bedroom window. His sister was outside, hysterical about something. Marty could here his father yell "I'm coming!" as he raced out of the room as well.

By now, the entire McFly family was outside in the driveway. Even Dave, Marty's once-lazy brother had woken up to see what the racket was.

Linda wouldn't cam down. "Who's car is this? I don't know this car!"

"Linda, relax." George said, "Marty, do you know about this car?"

"Yeah, Dad." Marty said when he realized they were talking about the Delorean, "I uh traded the truck in."

"But why, Marty?" said his other, Lorraine, "You loved that truck."

"I know, I just thought it was time for something new. Doc Brown gave me a good deal on it."

Dave and Linda both wore dumb expressions. Lorraine just stared almost apprehensively at the strange Delorean. Even George, the science-fiction guru and avid Star Wars fan didn't know what on earth to make of it.

"Well," Lorraine said finally, "I hope you thanked Mr. Brown. That was very nice of him to find you this, uh, car."

"It's a Delorean. And don't worry, Mom." Marty said, gazing up at the sky, "I think he knows."

"Well, you'd better get washed up for breakfast," Lorraine rattled off, "And make sure you wear that sweater I bought you. Grandpa Ronnie is coming over for breakfast this morning."

Marty nearly had a heart attack, "Grandpa Ronnie?" her said hoarsely.

"Well yes, Marty." Lorraine said, "Grandpa Ronnie always comes over for breakfast on Sundays. He was so excited to hear George got his book published." With that, Marty's mother meandered off to the kitchen to prepare the morning's meal.

Marty waited for the rest of the McFLy's to head indoors before he turned to retire. His mind was still on Doc and what he could be doing, or when he could be doing. It was hard to tell. Doc was a pretty creative guy and probably was off taking his tour of the world with Clara and the boys right by his side. He also felt a sense of kinship to Doc. It wasn't everyday someone gave you a Delorean as a going away present.

Yep. Today turned out all right. Marty was glad for that.

"Marty!" came the hollering voice of an old man. _Who the heck was that?_

"Marty, wait!" Was it…? No, It couldn't be.

"Marty!" By now the speaker had rounded a tree and was coming at Marty dressed in some sort of astronaut flight suit.

"Marty!" the figure screamed some more. Now it was obvious.

"Doc?" Marty said incredulously, "You're back already?"

"Marty, you've got to help me!" Doc said.

"With what? We just got back!"

"I'm not talking about 1941, Marty. It's the future! Something terrible has happened! I mean, something terrible _will_ happen!"

"When, Doc?"

"2035!"

"Oh man. This is heavy."

To be continued…

_(applause)_

_Yeah, okay. I sincerely hope you liked it. It was my first Back To The Future fan fic and I enjoyed every minute of the process. Thank you very much to everyone who took the time to read and review my work. Please send more (even flames). I am very grateful and very happy to keep the Back To The Future series alive._

_So is a Back To The Future Part V around the corner somewhere? Who knows? (I really hope so) If you want to see one, please send me an e-mail. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts on this story and the next one._

_Untilthen, don't forget: Your future is whatever you make it, so make it a good one! _

_- flicker404_


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